Counting to Ten
by Jateshi
Summary: Sirius is annoying nothing new there and Remus counts to ten. While counting from one to ten, Remus comes to a few conclusions about Sirius. MWPP era, light fluff and mild SBRL.


**Counting to Ten**   
_By Jateshi_

Summary: Sirius is annoying (nothing new there) and Remus counts to ten. While counting from one to ten, Remus comes to a few conclusions about Sirius.   
Characters: Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, mentions of Peter Pettigrew and James Potter, as well as Lily Evans. 

_Set during the MWPP era, Peter is in Gryffindor and for the love of canon, he's not a stupid little twat who is evil already. James is an annoying and snobbish guy, but then again so is Sirius and Remus is delightfully clueless. Semi spoilers for OotP, not a single thing for HBP, and a lack of anything but cute fluff._

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**Counting to Ten**

Sirius really took after his nickname of Padfoot in more ways than one. Not only was he a dog, as they had triumphantly unveiled, but he _paced._

Today was a prime example of this activity, Sirius looping the dormitory room in swift, small circles. Simply because of how long they had known each other, one look at the raven-haired Gryffindor told Remus volumes about what was going on inside his head. Five years of living in the same place most of the year allowed an understanding of every nuance of appearance, lending the ability to not only read temperaments - for instance, Sirius continuously tousled his hair when he was mad - but intent. 

Sirius' pale grey eyes were focused on something just beyond the confines of the room. No matter how much Remus prayed to Merlin and Godric that it was a homework problem, he knew Sirius too well - that and the other boy was tapping his fingers together as he walked, a sure sign of Prank Plottage. Strands of his fine hair fell into his eyes, Remus watching with mild fascination every time he stopped tapping his hands together to brush the long bangs from his vision; the corrections never lasted long though, every step jogging the thin strands lose and free again to eventually return to the same location they'd been in before. 

_Watching him much, Moony?_

That mental voice sounded suspiciously like James', he decided with some irritation. Whenever Remus wasn't watching Sirius - which wasn't all the time, or all that much as he told himself - he could see James watching him. Peter was watching James watching him watching Sirius, and Sirius rarely seemed to notice, especially these days. 

Breaking off from the mental examination, Remus looked up. _Yes,_ he noted, _Sirius is still pacing._ Rubbing his brows, massaging the bridge of his nose as Sirius completed yet another circle around the room, Remus softly began to count to ten under his breath. 

"One…" 

Sirius tensed quite suddenly, head snapping up and gazing at the wall in concentration; Remus knew _that_ look well too, and it always translated to just one thing. A mental check of the Gryffindor's ruby-filled House points glass showed a definite lack of cushion – hopefully Sirius really wasn't thinking what he feared. His unfortunate suspicions were confirmed when the other boy rushed to his desk, pushing aside piles of parchment and scrolls haphazardly to get at a small, relatively well-hidden set of spellbooks. Perching precariously on the edge of the desk, Remus watched as Sirius flipped between texts, slamming a finger down on a passage and muttering "a-_HA_!" under his breath. 

That really wasn't a good sign. Sirius never kept his academically useful books on the surface of his desk. Instead, he had tomes that smoked when you went near them or ones that viciously attacked your homework. The last time Remus had looked at the books that Sirius treated with loving attention, the experience had been traumatic; books with spells to melt things down, or time-delayed effects that would never amount to anything more than a prank. It was, in all honesty, why Sirius had them at hand – whenever the inspiration struck, Sirius would begin the long process of working out his fantasy and transforming it to reality. Be it mid afternoon or three in the morning – if Sirius Black was hit with inspiration, he followed through. 

"Two…" To his own ears, Remus' voice was starting to sound strained. If Sirius had looked over at him he would have been able to see a worried frown set on his room-mate's face. But Sirius didn't look up at him – he never did when he was focused - and instead dug diligently for another book. Remus' worried frown was tugged away by a mildly cross expression, arms refolding in slight annoyance. 

Sirius always made school seem effortless. A near master of Transfiguration (as becoming an animagus secretly proved), he never approached his schoolbooks for an actual homework assignment. Every prod from him to do his homework at something other than the last minute, or done at an effort other than "half-arsed" or without pleas to copy _his_ work, were resisted with a resiliency Remus had to admire – even if it did drive him absolutely, bloody insane. Even if the classes were ones he struggled with (unlike Transfiguration) he still never took out his books. 

For the life of him, Remus simply had no idea how Sirius passed most of his classes with the grades he had to be earning. Homework was always weighted heavily in areas such as Potions and Transfigurations and Defense; without the assignments – and according to the Professor's opening lectures at the start of term – it should be impossible. Unless Peter was right, of course, that James and Sirius snuck into the dorms when they should've been in class and copied their (Remus and Peter's, who studied with him after a little initial resistance) work. That made far more sense than Peter's other idea that had consisted of James and Sirius sneaking into the dorms to do their own work. 

In Sirius' case, Peter snickered and had jokingly offered one last alternative. Looking at Sirius bent over his desk, the firm lines of his arse defined by tailored trousers, it might not be too far-flung a possibility. Honestly though…Sirius didn't try to get into _everyone's_ knickers. His, for instance, were eternally safe. 

That really didn't help to improve his mood. He had no idea where that last thought had even come from, heat flooding his cheeks. "Three…" Maybe Sirius would hear the rise of irritation and look up, no matter how engrossed in his text he was. But if he did look up, there was a chance he could notice Remus' sudden colouration and he'd ask questions. 

_Why so hurt, Moony?_

There it was again – James' voice. It always asked him about these small, positively tiny flares of emotions; whenever he felt a spike of something watching Sirius – he wouldn't call it 'jealousy' no matter how much that internal voice nagged him with the term – that voice commandeered his mental attention. When he'd come across Sirius kissing (Miss) Anita Connors almost literally into the stones, that voice had taunted him for taking off so many points. It got really louder when he'd grabbed Sirius by the lobe of his ear and dismissed Anita back to the Ravenclaw Tower; Anita walked herself back while he escorted Messieurs Black to the Gryffindor Tower by the ear, berating him for his behaviour the entire trip back. 

"Not jealous," he muttered, instead of saying "four." 

Sirius had acted chastised that night, more for being caught by one of his best mates than actually and honestly being apologetic, scowling playfully while they'd marched back through the halls. Peter, working on an essay when he'd dragged Sirius into the room shook his head at them both. James, the one Remus had rather expected to leap to his best mate's defense, had looked at him while Sirius explained; the expression James wore while watching Remus had been confident, almost as if he knew something no one else had picked up on yet. 

But James was James, and he was as academically notorious as Sirius was. There was no way in Hades that James Potter had an answer Remus hadn't already found and confirmed, no matter what the subject was. Maybe James would claim a lean in the area of romance (as he did date on a very regular basis – at least up until he fixated on the un-reciprocating Lily Evans). _But if it's about romance_, he reasoned, _then James doesn't have the right answer._

James Potter might be hailed as the genius of pranks for Gryffindor House (along with the rest of the Marauders of course) but when it came to romance and the world of love, all of Hogwarts was in agreement that Sirius Black was the authority. Not a single crush (or opportunity to exploit one) went by Sirius that he didn't hear about. So James couldn't know something that Sirius would know, and if Sirius knew something then he'd be telling all sundry as per _his_ usual. 

"Five…" Sirius was still digging through his books, reaching out blindly to grab one of James' as well. It never bode well when Sirius began to cross reference – it led to disastrous losses of House points, detentions for three or more weeks, and a growth in adoration (and ego stroking) of both Gryffindors. The Headmaster was still chuckling over their efforts to turn half of Slytherin into little snakelets, never mind that according to the books Remus had read, they'd broken some incredibly stringent laws. Dumbledore had offered both boys (James and Sirius) a lemon drop, spoken to them of the gravity of what they'd done, and then sent them on their way with his customary twinkling blue eyes. 

He certainly didn't seem to have minded their forays, in the least. After putting on a face of disappointment when McGonagall was in the room, within a few short minutes he was charmed by their attempted antics. Remus' ranting and raving, his lecture on responsibility and how all actions had consequences, had fallen on deaf ears after that. Popping a lemon drop into their mouths Sirius and James linked arms, slung over the other's shoulders and draping across their backs, and had said to not worry. _That_ was a guarantee that Remus did, of course; even Peter had worried. 

He was fairly certain Sirius wasn't trying to accomplish the exact same prank again – James might reuse or pursue a tried-and-true method but never Sirius. Sirius, Remus had decided in their third year of knowing each other, hated to do the expected. Turning his nose up at his family after that infamous Sorting, the boy had shown true Gryffindor colours and habits ever since. Begun after James had gotten him to admit to liking Gryffindor's scarlet and gold, Sirius embraced every new 'Gryffindor' part of himself and flaunted them about. 

Somehow a short temper and an addiction to getting into trouble were commonly called Gryffindor traits. Beside the bravery, determination, and courage the lion House was known for, they were also reckless. James and Sirius served as the best poster boys for Gryffindor Remus had ever the pleasure of meeting; both of them took a cause and served it. Besides their willingness to risk their life for their friends, they also would lie to stay beside them. 

_That_ trait had to account for at least a third of the points they lost. Since neither would rat the other prankster out, it was quite common for them both to lose the same points and serve the same detentions. To be honest, neither Peter nor he would ever have asked them to betray their confidences in return for a lighter punishment – but did they have to smile about it so much? James and Sirius probably kept a running book of every mutual detention and point loss they'd earned for the other's sake. Maybe that was the reason James kept looking at Remus...? Maybe he was supposed to give James some sort of lead in their private game. 

No – Peter had said it best. They were both absolute nutters, and just liked being that way. So long as they could laugh and joke, nothing else affected them. By that logic, if he wanted Sirius to pay attention to him, all he'd have to do would be to take away the stack of reference books. Without them – and because the last time Sirius had entered the library by himself Madam Pince had chased him out with her wand drawn, yelling that he should never come back – he would turn to Remus for help. Then Remus would have the chance to be- 

_Be with Sirius, like you want?_

It was probably that lack of administrative backing that took the energy out of Remus' normal lecture - how could he burn their ears with reprimands if their own Headmaster had laughed? Peter's consoling presence had helped a little and Lily took James' boastful glee down a few notches with her disapproval of the prank but Sirius...? A few days of hanging out with Sirius even brought the other black-haired Gryffindor back to his unrepentant state. 

When that had happened Peter, good old Peter, had patted him on the shoulder and said it was hopeless. Remus remembered grumbling at that, watching that boisterously happy Sirius captivate the attentions of the First Years in the Commons. _Was that this first time James had watched you watch Sirius?_ It could've been, Remus slowly admitted to himself. Peter was in the middle of asking him something about Herbology when he'd looked up at Sirius; his reply died mid-word as he sat, staring at the other boy. He was blinking, just watching the youth wave his hands about, Sirius' voice dipping into highs and lows or shrilly shrieking when his narrative came towards the involvement of his own family. The sight was charming even if lasted only a few seconds, his vision suddenly bereft of the distant reds and golds and instead filled with wire glass's frames, lenses, amused brown eyes and messy, ink-black hair. 

"Something interesting, Moony?" _See something you like?_ Remus' ears could hear those nuances, read that second and implied question just as clearly as if James Potter had said it aloud. 

"Six," he growled out, that single word covered by the dramatic show of discovery Sirius put on. While digging through James' books it looked like he'd stumbled onto the stash of un-sent owls to Lily. Only a few minutes ago he was dreading whatever idea the young Mister Black had been cooking up - now he was staring at him in something akin to abject horror. 

"Padfoot..." his voice was soft, a low warning tone. For a moment he had captured Sirius' attention, gray eyes dancing with illicit joy - Remus knew that look as well as he knew all of Sirius' other looks. The sudden transformation of his impish grin into a peaceful, serene, nearly angelic smile did nothing - it never did, Remus chided his fellow Gryffindor mentally - to quell his suspicions or dread. "Prongs would _kill_ you, Padfoot." 

Sirius' angelic smile melted away too, letting his previous expression return. "No he won't - he wouldn't know unless someone told him." Remus swallowed and Sirius looked smug. "'Sides," he plodded on, "he hasn't gotten her yet," now he tapped the stack of owls clasped in his hands, "so he needs my help!" 

Remus put his head in his hands, groaning seven under his breath. Sirius hadn't learned last year, from all outside looks. That rather uneasy weekend and a half after Sirius had tried to send Lily love-owls in James' name was a distant memory. Lily's well-placed hex that put him into a "pre-puberty" stage somehow was lost on his memory, no matter that immediately afterwards (and for the next month or five) Sirius had tried to convince Peter to help him "find Prongs someone better than that Evans chit." Peter wisely stayed out of that conflict, Remus siding with him while Padfoot and Prongs stayed just below a hostile feud. Like all of their fights it took Peter buying Firewhiskey and Remus tricking them into the same room once drunk to patch things up. 

Sirius was probably sitting on top of James' desk. Through his ruminations, the slight shuffling sounds of fingers pulling apart pages was audible, carrying to his ears. There were long spans when there was no sound from the other occupant in the room. He could imagine Sirius reaching out for a quill and jotting down notes in the margins. His ears picked up the fumbling sounds the clatter of an inkwell cap onto the surface of the desk - a few seconds later than he had anticipated but predicted none-the-less. Soon the familiar sound of a sharpened quill scratching against the parchment was heard, his ears even catching the times Sirius tapped the feather against his cheek while thinking. Every pause brought another mental groan from Remus. Just like the cross-referencing, Sirius _thinking_ was a bad thing. 

Flicking his eyes up he caught sight of Sirius in the middle of reach towards James' stack of blank parchment. The chair balanced precariously on the two back most legs as the boy reached; he fumbled as he reached for a new quill, the feather hooks breaking apart and letting his hand pass over the quill without getting a firm hold on it. For all the movements and effort he was going through none of it drew the werewolf's attention until he made a soft grunting sound. 

Eight came out as a sort of strangled moan, a cross between saying the word and groaning in realisation that in a few short minutes Sirius was going to sit up off of James' desk and say something. He'd either read those owls he'd been "helping" James on (and oh Merlin, Remus could almost predict the first thing James would say once Sirius pulled him aside to grin and tell him what he'd done) or he'd try and con the bird James had lured to his owl stand into delivering the letters. Thankfully the owl was somehow loyal to James and refused to deliver things from Sirius - maybe that had more to do with the time Sirius and James tried to use Owl Post to send a prank to the Slytherin Commons, now that he thought about it. 

Again it was a bit later than when he'd predicted, but Sirius did indeed make a sound of utter triumph, the quill probably dropped back to the desk. Remus, for his part, was still sitting with his head in his hands, trying to not be complicit. Sirius was shuffling the letters now, the owl flapping her wings and snapping her beak when Remus imagined Sirius attempted to approach her. He muttered nine into his palms, most of the short word muffled by the heel of his hand. 

A sound - a half-uttered, quizzical but unvocalised sound - snapped his attention back to the less-appealing reality, his head snapping up in quick reaction to the noise. His eyes widened when all he saw was unfocused pale skin, grey eyes staring straight into his with a similarly surprised expression in them as he fancied in his own. Somehow Sirius had gone from James' desk to kneeling on the ground in what was likely concern for Remus, about to clear his throat to ask the Gryffindor what was wrong; instead of getting a word out, Remus had moved at the perfect moment to meet Sirius' parted lips in a light kiss. 

Composure came naturally to Sirius so it was the Black who broke off the kiss, rocking back on his heels and giving Remus a cheeky grin. "Ten?" 


End file.
